


Wherever you go

by Finsternis



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9487610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finsternis/pseuds/Finsternis
Summary: Sebastian was pretty sure that it was the most idiotic decision in his life, when he was sat at the airport a week later waiting for his ridiculously expensive flight to the other side of the world.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Huge Thanks to Butts_h, my beloved Beta and partner in crime. This would have never happened without you.
> 
> Warning: English is not my first language, I am not even sure it's second... just so you know.

 

 

Have you ever been to a pub alone? It’s quite a peculiar feeling, as if you were a ghost, a faint copy of a person, an afterthought in a room full of chit chats and laughter. You look at your phone scrolling through the messages you had read hundred times, or the twitter feed and take a sip of your beer. You desperately try to look as if you are sufficiently entertained in the present lack of company, even though the only thing you actually want is someone to spill their drink on you, just to have a reason to talk to them.

Sebastian had found himself in this very situation a month ago. The dodgy pub in the Taubenstraße served bottled Newcastle and was not too far away from his work. It also had a bartender indifferent enough, not to notice that Sebastian was in fact a regular, who always seemed to be waiting for someone, who never showed up. Seb scrolled through the emails on his phone, looked around the pub and made a decision.

Sebastian was pretty sure that it was the most idiotic decision in his life, when he was sat at the airport a week later waiting for his ridiculously expensive flight to the other side of the world. When he showed up at his boss’s office informing him that he would like to take a month off and that Nico was perfectly capable to take care of the current projects, Helmut was not thrilled. But even Dr. Marko could do little about it, since Sebastian hadn’t taken a single day of vacation in the past three years. Sebastian left his boss’s office and bought a ticket to Sydney, figuring that Australia was far enough to qualify for the “other side of the world”.

The flight to the “other side of the world” was delayed and Sebastian absent-mindedly scrolled through the messages on his phone. If someone would ever ask Seb, he’d say he hated mobile phones. People no longer looked at each other, everyone had a screen to stare at: Twitters and Facebooks and WhatsApps have long ago replaced polite smiles to a person sitting across you on the tube, and irrelevant conversations about the weather with people waiting at the bus stops. No one asked for time or directions anymore. No one asked to take a picture of them, that was taken care of with the selfie-hype.

Sebastian checked the time, picked up his carry-on bag and made his way to the gate. The queue for boarding was already forming, and Seb wondered what was the point, not that it was first come first served for the seats. Sebastian made his way to the glass wall of the airport building instead looking at a shiny Lufthansa Airbus, that was supposed to take him to Abu Dhabi, from where there was another flight to land in Sydney 30 hours from now.

Seb made it into the shell of the plane, retrieved his headphones from his bag, shoved the bag under the seat, fastened his seatbelt and turned to purposefully look out of the window, to make sure he was not staring at people making their way through the aisles, waiting for his single serving friend.

Not that he expected Tyler Durden to show up with a suitcase full of soap, but he wouldn’t mind spending the next seven hours with something other than listening to the songs he knew by heart.

“Here, in the middle,” Seb heard above his head, and in a second there was a kid about 7 years old, being strapped into the seat next to him. Sebastian puffed out a sigh and turned the music on.  
The flight attendant asked to switch off the electronic devices and when the plane started rolling across the field Sebastian found himself in a bubble of muffled conversations, clattering shelves and monotone explanations of the safety procedures.

He wasn’t sure the fact he knew where the emergency exit was, was going to be any help if their pilot suddenly decides that the mountain is a pretty good target, but he was bored enough to look through the instructions.

Sebastian could feel the distinct hint of a headache once the plane started to gain heights, the lack of sleep catching up on him. He had to make sure Nico actually knew what to do, to make sure he could switch his phone off for a month without the world going under.

People at work liked him, or at least Seb had no evidence of the contrary: he was a decent analyst with an eye for detail many of his colleagues missed, he was reliable, kept his promises, and was always happy to share his knowledge. The colleagues ran to him when they needed help and were ready to do their bit, when Sebastian needed a hand. Helmut, too, was reasonably happy with him, and Sebastian was rather content. Not thrilled, but it was a job that paid his bills, and an opportunity to have at least some human contact.

The kid next to Sebastian fiddled with his small backpack fishing out a colouring book and an assortment of pens, half of which fell on the floor, and Seb automatically leaned to help the kid get them. There was a tentative “Thanks” and Sebastian smiled with a nod. He watched the boy colour a car red and smiled, remembering that infamous quote from Enzo Ferrari, claiming that if you asked a kid to draw a car it would most likely be red.

The plane was above the clouds, the rising sun painting them a shade of pink, and it would be quite nice if Sebastian weren’t stuck watching it for the coming hours. Once he was allowed, he turned the music up in his headphones and fished out the book he had picked up at the airport shop. Paperback edition of Hawking’s “Brief history of time” felt like an easy reading, and Sebastian chose it instead of some bestseller fiction.

Sebastian couldn’t hide a frown when the kid next to him attempted to attract his mother’s attention. “Mom, tell me how the plane works!” Sebastian heard the demand somewhere between ‘Hey Jude’ by The Beatles and the latest single of Philipp Poisel. The woman looked pretty lost at the question why the plane doesn’t flap its wings. Sebastian pulled off his headphones, he wondered how pathetic it would be to volunteer and do the explanation.

They were offered drinks and it distracted the kid for a while, but only for the boy to start asking questions again once he was done with his apple juice. Sebastian guessed he will never meet these people again, so he might as well indulge in educational measures.

“You wanna know how the plane flies?” Sebastian offered. “I can explain if you want.”  
The woman looked at him a bit embarrassed.  
“Max, stop bothering the gentleman,” she instructed. “Excuse us.”  
“He didn’t bother me,” dismissed Seb.  
“Tell me! Why isn’t it flapping its wings and we are still not falling?” Max asked.

“It is because of the aerodynamics,” Sebastian started. “Do you remember how the water feels when you are swimming? You have to keep moving not to drown. With the plane it is a very similar principle.”

Max was listening carefully, and Sebastian ended up making a couple of quick drawings on a napkin with a red pen.

“So this means the engines make the plane go forward quickly and the form of the wings makes it go up?” Max summed up, when Sebastian was done.

“Exactly, mate,” Seb praised.

“You are smart,” Max concluded.

“You are not too bad yourself,” Sebastian smiled at the boy kindly. He was good at explaining things in easy terms, after all, he had a younger brother.

Apparently his single serving friend was flying to Bali with his mother to watch the elephants, and his dad had paid for it because he didn’t want to go. Sebastian guessed Max’s mother was not too thrilled that he was telling him all this, but it kept her son occupied and gave her some time to go through the fashion magazine, which seemed to interest her a lot more than her own child.

Sebastian managed to get some sleep, but was woken up again, when the plane landed in Abu Dhabi airport. With the delay he didn’t have much time for the transfer, so he just followed the signs cross-checking with his boarding pass. He’d been in Abu Dhabi once or twice on a business trip, and the Emirates had always left that sandy aftertaste of a world with a set of values fundamentally different to his own.

Sebastian took a seat on another plane, he wasn’t looking for Tyler Durden anymore, just some sleep. As seemingly was his new neighbour: an elderly balding gentleman in a cheap suit with a dark orange tie. Sleeping turned out to be a challenge, since the poor passengers were offered drinks, then food, then drinks, then everyone started to run around to get to the toilets, so that Sebastian’s Bose earphones with active noise cancellation, didn’t manage to filter all this mess out.

When the plane finally landed in Sydney, Sebastian was dog-tired. He stood in the middle of the arrivals hall looking at people smiling at each other, giving each other warm hugs. The taxi drivers and well-dressed corporate employees held their signs, fishing out people they were supposed to meet. There was no one waiting for Sebastian, so he picked up his backpack and made his way to the railway station.

***

Sebastian wasn’t sure if getting a room in a hotel really qualified for an adventure. When he had booked a room in a small hotel not far from the central railway station in Sydney, he felt as if he was defying the purpose of his journey. After over thirty hours of traveling, Sebastian couldn’t care less whether his trip would qualify for an adventure. He was really happy to get into an elevator, open the door of his small room, throw his backpack onto the floor, take a quick shower and slip into bed.

Sebastian didn’t know how long he had been asleep, but when he opened his eyes it was pitch dark. It took him a minute to realise where he was and why he felt so knackered. He lay in bed for a couple of minutes watching the dark ceiling, then pushed himself up on his elbow and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. iPhone complacently informed that it was half four in the morning in Sydney.

Sebastian sat up properly and rubbed his eyes, his stomach rumbling. He last ate on the plane, and that was a while ago. Not that he was likely to get any food any time soon, though. Brushing his teeth in the small bathroom, he wondered what the hell he was doing. Making a trip to Australia alone sounded like a fun idea on paper, but now when he was alone in Sydney, it sounded like the most pathetic plan ever.

For a minute he considered going back to bed and getting another couple of hours of sleep, but knowing himself and his propensity to thinking, Sebastian decided against it. He dug out some shorts and a t-shirt from his backpack wincing over the fact that it was all wrinkled. He took his wallet and his phone, and made sure he didn’t forget his key card.

Sebastian walked down George street towards the harbour guessing that he should check out the sights first. You were supposed to check out the sights first, and Sebastian dutifully made his way towards Harbour Bridge. He looked at the buildings around, desperately trying to remind himself that it was supposed to feel different than any other city, that it was special. The buildings were the same, though. Of course, he knew considerably less brand names, but the H&Ms and Topshops made every city look the same, same David Backhams looked down from the billboards. Sydney was no different. Sebastian snapped a picture of the town hall and sped up a bit, guessing that odds were, he wouldn’t be up to watching a sunrise over the Darling, once he got over the jetlag.

The sky had already turned a peculiar shade of purple by the time Sebastian made it to the bridge. Seb leaned on the railing, looking at the Opera House. It looked exactly the way it did on all those pictures on the internet, the rays of the early morning sun washing over the familiar curves. The pictures on the Internet didn’t have the sound of the cars sleepily crawling over the bridge behind Sebastian, they didn’t have that rambling of the motor boats in the river or the dull tap-tap-tap of the running shoes of a blonde girl passing by. The pictures on the internet didn’t have the smell of water and the seagull screams. Sebastian pulled out his phone out of his pocket and made a picture. It didn’t look any different, but there was something special about the thin layer of clouds in these particular shades of orange and purple, that would never look the same again.

Sebastian stood there watching the sunrise, wondering whether he should check his emails, but soon realising that he left his work phone at the hotel, and guessing that it must be a sign. He wondered whether Nico would actually be able to cover for him. He made a mental note to call him once he was back, and once he had figured out the time difference, but soon realised, that this would definitely defy the purpose of the whole exercise. He should have left this person in Germany, on the office on the 14th floor, in front of that Excel model with the latest earnings estimates for Daimler AG.

The wind on the bridge was heavy and Sebastian regretted not taking a jacket. He walked down the bridge, remembering a small coffee shop he caught with a corner of his eye, hoping it was open. In Germany any bakery would be open despite an early hour, serving brilliant pastry and awful coffee with semi-skimmed milk. He wasn’t sure about Australia. Of course, there was always Starbucks, but that sounded like a fundamentally bad idea.

The opening hours were printed in faded colours on the glass door, informing him that he had half an hour to kill, if he wanted his coffee from this place. Half an hour didn’t seem like a lot of time, so Seb decided to go and take a closer look at the Opera House since he was there anyway.

The spacey structure looked considerably less spacey once he looked at it from a closer distance, it still was bricks, it was still man made, and Sebastian couldn’t help but feel disappointed, even though it was absolutely illogical.

Sebastian walked back to the coffee shop, and pushed the handle down, entering a small space, a bell over the door announcing his entrance. It was all a bit old, the walls needed painting, generic pictures in cheap frames needed cleaning. Sebastian took a seat at the counter, wondering whether it actually was open, since there was no one there.

“G’day, mate!” Seb heard the greeting, and turned around.  
“Hi,” he smiled, and realised how dry his mouth was. It’s been a while since he talked to anyone.  
“Coffee, I guess? In this ungodly hour you need a coffee!” The guy smiled at him: his smile so big it almost didn’t fit onto his face.  
“Yeah, a double espresso and… do you have sandwiches or something?” Sebastian asked, picking up a one-page menu from the counter.  
“Yep, ham and cheese okay?” the guy asked beaming, as if he received commission on every sandwich he sold.  
“Perfect,” Sebastian smiled back.

The guy turned his back, making the coffee, and Seb felt a bit awkward, the usual urge to get his phone out of his pocket and fiddle with it almost irresistible. The place didn’t look like one with wi-fi anyway, and Sebastian wasn’t sure appearing busy and not-so-bloody lonely was worth paying the data roaming fees.

Sebastian doubted that what he got qualified for a double espresso, but it tasted okay, as did the sandwich, or he simply was really hungry. Sebastian ate, trying to come up with something to ask. It did feel pretty pathetic, but Seb guessed, he should get used to it: he was in a country he would probably never visit again, and the coffee shop guy would forget him the minute he left. The realisation was both liberating and incredibly sad. Sebastian finished his sandwich and paid the bill, laid out for him on the counter. He slid down from the stool, a part of him hoping that the guy with a big smile would at least say “bye”, but he didn’t.

The streets were busier now, and Sebastian felt weird, surrounded by all those people perfectly suited and booted and heading to their offices safely tucked away in the air conditioned skyscrapers. He couldn’t help a pinch of guilt, because back in Frankfurt it would be him, hurrying to go through the latest news and to adjust the earnings estimates, but now he was stood in the middle of the street with nowhere to hurry, feeling a bit purposeless.

He found a purpose later, after spending hours just walking the streets. He decided that he wanted to see the ocean. It’s been a while since he has seen an open water, ages ago really, on his last vacation at the university: he and a couple of mates went to Barcelona for a week. Sydney reminded him of it a little bit, the streets that go on forever, the harbour, that distinct feeling of anonymity that big city gives you. Even back then Sebastian had felt like a fifth wheel, an afterthought. For some reason he remembered all those moments when they had ended up pushing the tables and stealing chairs at the restaurants, and the way it had always been him who had sat at the edge.

Sebastian made it to the beach when the sun was high up the sky, merciless rays brushing his skin. He popped by a drugstore to get some sunscreen, not looking forward to turning into a lobster on his first day Down Under.

The water was sparkling, and warm and Seb took off his sneakers and dug his toes into the sand, breathing in the salty air. The beach was pretty busy, despite the fact it was Monday, and Sebastian wondered where all these people worked. The simple impracticality of being alone was that he had no one to leave his stuff with, otherwise he would have plunged into the water. Instead, he just sat on the sand, watching the waves roll over the shore.

Sebastian almost jumped, when he got hit by a Frisbee, he rubbed his shoulder and looked around, picking up a pink piece of plastic.  
“Sorry, mate!” shouted a guy, holding his hand in the air in an apology. Seb threw the Frisbee back at him, but somehow it didn’t work out as intended, and the Frisbee flopped on the sand five meters away from the guy.  
“Sorry,” Sebastian smiled sheepishly and forced himself to divert his gaze from the guy, who leaned to pick up the Frisbee, throwing it to one of the girls he was playing with.

Sebastian sat for another five minutes, doodling meaningless patterns on the sand with a tip of his finger, thinking back on that trip to Barcelona all those years ago. Back then was the only time he came close to telling anyone his tiny little secret. They had sat on the beach, drinking cheap wine straight from the bottle, and Sebastian almost told them, but then Verena complained about her broken nail, and he didn’t. It was his secret, his problem to deal with, or to ignore. He had ignored it back then as he had been ignoring it for years. Most of the time it even worked.

***

It was early evening, when Sebastian managed to come up with a plan for the night. Googling the area, he felt stupidly brave, but rather apprehensive at the same time. The realisation annoyed Sebastian enormously. He was a grown man, he wasn’t supposed to feel nervous going to a night club, but he did.

Oxford street was not too busy, and after the research Seb had done, it looked rather underwhelming, but it still freaked him out, even though he didn’t plan anything other than just checking out the place and having a drink or two.

Seb stood at the end of a short queue leading to a night club, he tried not to stare at people, so he dug out his phone from his pocket and started clicking through old messages. It usually helped to make an impression that he was waiting for someone definite, not just for someone. The security guy at the door scanned Seb with a scrutinising look, and for a second Seb thought he wouldn’t get in, that something about him would tell the guy straight away that he wasn’t a valuable asset for the evening crowd. The security guard waved him in, Seb gave him a curt nod and took a step inside. He paid the entry fee and got a small stamp on his wrist.

Sebastian looked at it, feeling slightly weird. He had spent his life keeping it secret, hiding, pretending, and the nightclub stamp in cheap blue ink seemed like a definite statement he thought he never would be able to make. It felt as if he was put into a box, assigned a label he was avoiding his whole life. The odds of meeting someone he knew were next to zero, but looking at the stamp on his skin, Seb couldn’t help but feel as if it was final.

He took in his surroundings, it wasn’t too busy yet, people on the dance floor moved in a steady rhythm of some techno. Sebastian made his way to the bar, took a seat and ordered a beer. He took a sip, concentrating on the dancers on stage: the men obviously spent a lot of time at the gym, the way the muscles played under their sun kissed skin, of which there was quite a bit exposed. They looked like a picture, otherworldly. People who looked like that had always seemed so far away that it had never done it for Seb. He didn’t know what did, though.

He sipped his beer, unconsciously rubbing his fingers on the stamp. The familiar feeling of not belonging built up slowly, accompanied by that nagging thought that maybe it wasn’t that good of an idea after all. Sebastian looked at people at the dance floor, picturing himself with one or the other. He caught some glances on himself as well, somehow it felt simultaneously flattering and humiliating.

Seb let his eyes wander across the room, and was caught looking at a blond guy at the other side of the bar. Seb smiled sheepishly and couldn’t help but divert his gaze. His curiosity won over though, and he glanced at the blond again, just to be caught. The blond leaned to the guy sitting next to him, told him something and stood up. Sebastian dug out his phone from his pocket, to do what he usually did when he felt uncomfortable surrounded by people. He looked at the screen, not even bothering to open any of the old messages.

Seb almost jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned around to see the blond guy looking at him. He stood close, just inches away, leaning in.  
“Can I get you a drink?” he offered, his breath brushing the shell of Seb’s ear. The music was loud, and Sebastian guessed he wouldn’t hear him otherwise, so he fought the urge to flinch away.

The blond guy looked even more handsome up close, Seb guessed if he were to take off his shirt, he could easily outdo any of the men dancing on stage. Bloody hell the blond was handsome and Sebastian felt flattered by the interest, terrified out of his mind, but flattered.

There was the matter of someone else getting him a drink. Even if there was a rule book about that, Seb hadn’t read it. Getting things for free, owing people had always made him uncomfortable, so he shook his head.

“Nope, but would be cool if you stayed,” he replied making sure to smile, trying his best to hide how out of place he felt.  
The blond shot him a puzzled look, ordered another beer for himself and took a seat next to Seb, his hand possessively resting on his waist. It felt weird, unfamiliar, almost unreal.

“What’s your name?” Seb asked, trying to relax. He didn’t expect this. He expected to sit and watch. In spite of his apprehension, if felt nice that someone paid attention. He wondered what it was the breathtakingly handsome blond found in him, but Seb thought that he should just relax and do what he felt like doing.

The guy laughed at the question for some reason, as if asking a person, you just met, for their name was strange.

“Heikki,” he replied shortly, smiling. “You aren’t local, are you?” he queried.

“No, just travelling,” Sebastian said, he took a sip of his drink, trying to come up with something to say. Heikki’s hand slid lower and Seb reminded himself not to freak out: he was a grown man, he wasn’t supposed to behave like a stupid inexperienced virgin at a big kids’ party. Even if it was exactly what he was.

“Wanna go dance?” Heikki offered.

Seb guessed that maybe it was a good idea, since it became increasingly hard to talk over the sound of music, maybe not talking was easier. Seb could imagine where this all was heading, and finishing his drink he thought whether he actually could do it. He reminded himself not to freak out, and maybe it was better like this - a person he didn’t know, a person he would probably never meet again, someone who didn’t even ask for his name.

Sebastian slid down the stool and took the blond’s hand, leading him to the dance floor, deciding he should just play it by ear. In the middle of the heated crowd with Heikki pressed up against him, Seb just concentrated on the immediate feeling, on the haze in his head, prompted by the lack of air, the heat of the body grinding against his and the faint hint of arousal.

“My place,” Heikki said, placing his hands on Seb’s waist and leaning in, his breath brushing Seb’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. He could only nod and follow his new acquaintance. This wasn’t what Sebastian had imagined when he braved a gay club, he didn’t expect going off the deep end straight away, but somehow it was better like that, it didn’t leave him much time to overthink.

Sebastian wasn’t quite that sure once they have made it out of the club: the fresh air and relative silence shook Sebastian back to the verge of reality, reminding him that he wasn’t even drunk, reminding him what it was he was about to do.

Seb gasped for breath when Heikki pushed him against the brick wall, kissing him hard. It took Seb’s brain a second to catch up and to kiss him back, running his fingers through his soft blond hair. Sebastian hoped that he wasn’t totally useless, that he didn’t appear quite as inexperienced as he was.

Heikki squeezed him a bit harder, and if there had been any questions what their plans for the night were, there were none left.  
“Your place,” Seb confirmed, his hand still stroking Heikki’s strong back under his shirt. Seb wasn’t sure his voice wasn’t shaking, and reminded himself to talk less.

Heikki nodded, unglued himself from Seb and lead him down the street. It wasn’t a long walk to a small hotel, and Seb guessed, Heikki must be travelling as well. They didn’t talk much, and a part of Seb wished they had, but he wasn’t about to spoil everything with talking: this is what he usually did, he talked too much, said stuff people didn’t give a damn about, but were too polite to shut him up. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake.

Heikki greeted the guy at the counter, leaned over and grabbed a key.  
“Not your usual type,” the guy at the counter commented.  
“Something new for a change,” Heikki shrugged.  
Seb smiled politely at the man at the counter, reminding himself not to think. It was just sex, this is why he was there, this is what he wanted, just sex with a man. For real. Not in abstract, not in his fantasy, not in theory. Real sex, with a real human being.

Heikki opened the door, letting Seb in, he turned the lamp placed on a bedside table on and took off his shirt, Heikki’s muscles played in the soft light. God he was gorgeous. Sebastian took a step towards him, kissing Heikki, wrapping his hands around his neck.

The kiss distracted Seb from the panic slowly building in him, the reality of it hitting home. He kissed down Heikki’s chest, stopping just to let him rid Seb of his own shirt. Seb felt horribly self-conscious under the judging gaze of the blond: he was nothing like him, no perfectly built muscles or anything, just normal, just skinny, plain.

Seb took a sharp breath of air and got back to the task of kissing Heikki. He wanted to make him feel good, he desperately didn’t want him to regret choosing him. Heikki made a couple of steps backwards, and sat on the edge of the bed, quickly undoing his belt.

Sebastian took a deep breath and lowered himself on the floor. His heart was pounding like crazy the mixture of arousal and panic driving him nuts. He imagined doing it thousands of times, but slowly taking Heikki in, letting his tongue run up the other man’s length was something else.

Heikki pulled him closer, placing his palm on top of Seb’s head. It was a bit more complicated than Seb had always imagined, and not really being able to catch his breath didn’t help. Seb lifted his head up, taking a greedy intake of air. Heikki wasn’t looking at him, just pulled him closer.

“C’mon hurry up,” he said, and Seb tried to do as instructed, his hand sliding up and down Heikki’s length, lips wrapped around the tip, trying to take him in deeper with every move.  
“Fuck, dude have you even done it before?” Heikki bit.  
The comment felt like a slap, even though it was accurate. Seb bit his lip, looking at the floor, embarrassed.  
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, suddenly realising what an idiot he had been, thinking that he could just do it, that the suddenly could be any good at stuff he had never dared to do before.

Heikki pulled him up and pushed to lie on his front, pulling his jeans and the underwear down. Seb thought that maybe it was for the best, let Heikki lead, let him do the job – at least he knew what to do – just let it happen.  
“Let’s hope that tight little ass of yours feels better than that big mouth,” the blond commented, Seb just bit his lip, thankful that he could hide his face in the pillow. He hoped so as well.

He handed Heikki a condom, he awkwardly pulled out of his pocket. The blond laughed. Seb felt the fingers – slick and cold – circling his hole and tried to concentrate on his breathing. The pillow smelled of cheap detergent, the fabric worn after too many washes, Sebastian tried to relax, biting the corner of the pillow, when the fingers slid inside – the sensation familiar and not at the same time. It was different, this all was so different. When Seb let himself think about it, when he let himself imagine, it wasn’t like that, not like that at all.

It hurt, and even Seb had always known it would, the reality of it was a bit too much, a part of him was grateful that Heikki held him firmly in place. Seb tried to remind himself why he wanted it, he squeezed the blanket in his fists, trying to concentrate on that.

Seb suddenly realised that he has never felt lonelier in his life: he was in bed with another man and he felt completely, absolutely alone. Heikki didn’t even know his name. Seb squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on the physical side of it, tying to listen to his body. It didn’t hurt any more, deep steady thrusts were sending waves of pleasure down his body. Seb took a deep intake of breath, wondering for a second whether he should turn around, but Heikki pressed his hand firmly on his back, and Seb guessed, that maybe it was better like that.

Heikki withdrew from him with a content little sigh, flopping loosely on the bed and laughing. Seb took a breath and turned to his side, looking at the blond lying on the bed with his eyes closed. A part of him wanted to kiss him, but Seb made sure to stop himself: if there ever were any magic, it wore off.

Sebastian sighed, put his feet down on the carpet and grabbed his jeans. He dressed slowly, his body feeling as if it was not his own. He just couldn’t help but feel like he should at least try to get out, before Heikki would ask him to leave. Seb wasn’t sure he could deal with that.

“Bye,” he said softly, placing his shaking hand on the door handle. Heikki didn’t reply, so Seb closed the door behind himself and made his way to the stairs, trying to hold onto the emptiness in his head.

***

The next morning, Seb checked out of his hotel and made his way to the central railway station. He waited in the queue and only when the girl at the counter asked him where it was he wanted to go, Seb realised that this was the question he should have thought about beforehand.

“Don’t know… Somewhere nice on the coast, small place. Is Brisbane nice?” he asked. The girl smiled.

“Brisbane is not exactly small, but if you want the Sunshine Coast, I can recommend Noosa. It’s on the edge of the Great Sandy National Park, too,” she said. “It’s quite a journey through, 15 hours or so.”  
“Good. Perfect. Can I have a ticket for the next train?” Seb decided.  
“One way, or return?” the girl asked.  
“One way, I guess. Yeah. One way.” Seb smiled.  
He paid for the ticket, thanked the girl and guessed that he could go and have a coffee, before the train left.

Seb wrapped his hands around the coffee cup and took his place on the train. Leaving, running away, hiding, doing something stupid, regretting it, hating himself for it… the whole cycle seemed familiar, and it didn’t change with the change of location.

Seb suddenly remembered that quote from Neal Gaiman – “Wherever you go, you take yourself with you” – and it couldn’t be more true. Sometimes Seb hoped he could forget himself on a platform, check himself in to lost and found, land in a pile of unclaimed baggage at the airport. But it didn’t work like that, so he took another train, going to another place.

Sebastian took out his phone and went through offers on Airbnb, he chose a room offered by a woman called Ann. She looked friendly in the pictures, and the location was great if reviews and the dot on the map were anything to go by. It looked good, and Seb was quite pleased with himself for having found the accommodation so easily.

The movement of the train, the steady tick-tock of the rails under the wheels, soon lulled Sebastian into half sleep, the sleepless night catching up on him. He tried not to think of what happened at night, he tried to ignore tiny reminders in his body, he tried to pretend it didn’t happen, that it wasn’t him. He was back to square one. Except now there was that added pinch of shame.

Seb looked across the aisle at a couple wrapped up with each other, the girl safely tucked in the arms of a man hugging her. Seb turned to look out of the window, letting out a sad little laugh. He wondered whether there will ever be anyone who would want him to hug them. It was stupid thing to think about, it just made him sad.

Sebastian puffed out a breath and dug out his phone, Palahniuk’s “Invisible Monsters” open in his iBooks. He read it quite often, sometimes just opening the book on a random page, letting the characters – crazy, screwed up misfits – do their magic. Seb wasn’t jealous of them, they didn’t get their happy endings, they didn’t make him feel like a complete failure.

Seb finished a couple of chapters and took his hoody from the bag to use it as a pillow, his neck slowly starting to kill him. He wasn’t used to such long journeys, mostly because in the time he could have gone from Munich to Hamburg and back again – Germany was tiny in comparison. It still was a bit beyond Seb’s comprehension how big a country could be. He thought he could go to some really remote place afterwards, somewhere with no people at all, somewhere where even he wouldn’t screw things up.

Seb slept a bit more, waking up just to change trains in Brisbane. Seb wondered whether he should go and check out the sights, but somehow he didn’t feel like another city sightseeing tour. He had to remind himself that the trip was about what he wanted, and not what he was expected to want, so he took another train and after a couple of hours arrived in Noosa.

He checked the address, gave his hostess a quick ring and made his way up the hill, taking in the beautiful view combined with that homely feeling of a small town.

He felt a bit apprehensive, as he always did before meeting new people. He feared it would be the way it usually happened to him: people liked him at first, gave him a benefit of the doubt, but then after a short while they became annoyed with him. Seb loved those short periods of time when people couldn’t see quite so well how awkward he really was, when people didn’t quite realise how screwed up and hopeless he was.

Sebastian rechecked the address for the hundredth time and rang, his heart picking up the pace a bit. Seb shook his head figuring it was utterly ridiculous, but there was nothing he could do about it just take a deep breath.

“Here you are!” Ann greeted him, opening the small gate, she took a step back, inviting him in and gave Seb a bisque hug.

Ann looked older than she did in the picture on the website, and Seb figured the photo must have been taken a while ago. The dogs from the profile picture, a Weimaraner and a Rhodesian Ridgeback, were running around, wiggling their tails and barking.

“Down, boys,” instructed Ann, and the dogs went to sit at her feet, still looking suspiciously at Sebastian.

“Good afternoon,” Sebastian greeted with a smile. “Thank you for accepting the reservation. I’m Sebastian.”

“I guessed that much,” Ann nodded. “Come with me,” she instructed, and Seb followed her through the big garden towards a small studio apartment built on top of quite a big garage. The garage door was open and Seb caught a glimpse of an old 911 and a couple of bikes next to a quite impressive Nissan. Seb was distracted by the dogs pushing their noses into his palm.  
“Mark usually looks after them, but he’s busy in town,” Ann explained, nodding at the dogs.  
“They are gorgeous,” Seb praised, rubbing the Weimaraner’s back gently. He wondered whether he would get a chance to do it again, he liked the dogs.

Ann lead Seb to the stairs and opened the glass door, letting him in. The dogs stayed on the ground and swiftly dashed away to the other side of the garden.

“Wow!” Sebastian couldn’t help but gasp. He didn’t spend much time clicking through the photos on AirBnB, so he only expected a bed to sleep in and a shower. He definitely didn’t expect the place to be designed with such an attention to detail. Patchwork blanket on the bed matched to colours of a big painting on the wall: a 917 Porsche with splashes of colour and geometric forms, which Seb presumed must be the outlines of a race circuit. The lamp above the bed was made out of an old exhaust pipe polished and painted. Sebastian had never seen anything like that, not in Germany at any rate.

“Mark did most of it, I have just done the textiles,” Ann smiled, seemingly very pleased with Seb’s reaction.

“It is unbelievably beautiful,” Sebastian praised, still noticing small details here and there: hooks for the clothes made out of spark plugs, a small table made out of a wheel rim, some more pictures, making up a sort of mosaic with some pieces running up the ceiling. “You gave it so much thought. It’s like it’s a different world. It’s a bit Tim Burton, but not quite so dark,” Seb babbled.

With the outside wall made entirely out of glass the place was flooded with light, with branches of the trees sneaking into the room through the open window. Sebastian turned around and just froze. With the house on top of the hill, you could see the ocean, framed by the deep green of the trees.

“Oh my god,” Sebastian breathed out, staring at the incredible view.

“It is nice, isn’t it?” Ann smiled, leaning on the door frame. “I have been living here on and off for twenty years now, and still can’t quite get used to the beauty of it.” She shook her head. “Here is the key, you should have everything you need, towels and stuff in the bathroom. If there is something else, you can always call. Oh and the wi-fi password…”

“I won’t be needing it,” Seb said, surprising even himself, “Thank you.”

“That’s new,” Ann smiled. “Usually it’s the first thing people your age ask.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I doubt there is anything nicer than this view online,” he smiled.

“True. If you change your mind, we live in the house, you can always drop by, or call,” Ann reminded.

“Thank you,” Seb said and accompanied his hostess to the bottom of the stairs, grateful for the opportunity to give the dogs another gentle rub.

“Oh and I forgot to mention, we have a bit of a menagerie: a couple of donkeys, chicken, alpacas. Don’t be surprised if our cat shows up at your door step begging for food. She does it all the time. Just ignore her.” Ann added.

“Oh wow… yeah… thanks.” Seb didn’t know what to say, still stunned. It felt like he was in a middle of a movie: he didn’t get to meet such people and stay at such places, he didn’t get to be welcomed so warmly. If things like that happened, they couldn’t happen to him.

When Seb made it up the stairs, the first thing he did was to open the windows, letting the fresh salty air flood the room, he dropped on the bed and closed his eyes. He was tired after the long journey, but just staying in felt wrong, so Seb pushed himself up from the bed, grabbed the wrinkled change of clothes from his backpack and decided to check out the beach, which from his windows looked completely and utterly stunning.

It looked even better up close, the palm trees hanging low, the sand gentle under his feet, last rays of sun painted the water deep dark blue. Sebastian took his shirt off, placed it and the key on a stone and ran towards the ocean, feeling like a ten-year-old.

The water was warm and Seb swam further away from the shore, making sure to time his movement in line with the waves not to get a mouthful of salty water. He made it back to the beach after a while, the muscles in his body protesting a bit after the strain they weren’t used to. It still felt nice, the feeling overwriting the lingering aftertaste of the night before.

The air was a bit cooler now, but not cold enough to be unpleasant. Seb sat on the beach, watching the waves roll over the sand and smiled to himself. Even if this whole trip was a mess, moments like this were worth it. He thought that maybe if he manged to keep it, this stubborn ability to feel happy about tiny simple things, then maybe he could keep going. There was no point complaining, no point feeling sorry for himself. There was no point making wish lists without taking steps. Seb had always thought that happiness was a choice, not a set of boxes to tick. Sometimes it was just a bit harder to ignore the unticked boxes, but it was still up to him.

Sebastian pulled his shirt on, when his skin dried sufficiently and made his way back up the hill to his flat. There was some food in the small kitchen: bread and ham and tea, so Sebastian quickly made a sandwich. He ate sitting in the armchair, pushed close to the window, taking in the incredible view. It was still early but Seb was tired and sleepy. He wanted to take a quick shower, but that quickly went out of the window, since it took him some time to read the quotes written on the tiles in the shower with a waterproof pen.

***

Seb didn’t set an alarm, his still messed up internal clock woke him up before sunrise. Sebastian made it out of bed, swung by the bathroom and put on his running shoes. He softly closed the door behind himself and ran down the stairs.

Once outside he took a deep greedy breath. The sky was still dark and in the peace of such an early hour he could hear the ocean even from the top of the hill. Seb closed his eyes taking in the soft smell of the trees and the damp earth. Birds were singing their tunes so differently from what he was used to in Europe. He took the route downhill towards the ocean, enjoying how easy it was to run - the sound of his running shoes on the tarmac loud in the quietness of the early morning.

He made his way to the beach, venturing onto the sand. Running on sand was challenging, but it felt nice: every step slightly different, the feeling you never get running on tarmac. Seb slowed down a bit, realizing how much of a challenge the runny sand actually was. He heard a dog barking and turned around just to see a stick fly by and two enthusiastic dogs rushing to pick it up. The pair of them looked familiar and he turned around looking for Ann.

It wasn’t Ann throwing the stick though, but a man, - Mark – Seb presumed. The dogs rushed by, and Seb watched Mark give them a stroke each. Seb tried to divert his gaze, realising he had been caught staring, but Mark gave him a wave instead.

“Morning,” he greeted.  
“Morning,” Sebastian smiled, and stopped to pet Mark’s dogs, when they rushed to greet him. Seb wondered, whether they remembered.  
“Simba, Shadow,” Mark called, and Seb couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed by the loss of quite a welcome contact.

Seb sighed, waited for a couple of seconds, a part of him desperately hoping that Mark would start a conversation, but he didn’t, just leaned to pick up the stick from the sand. Sebastian resumed running, making sure to concentrate on his steps.

It didn’t help much when one of the dogs came charging for another little rub, distracted, Seb misplaced his foot, stumbling and falling on the sand. God he was awkward. He let out a laugh and remained sitting on the ground, Simba guiltily pushing his nose in Seb’s shoulder.

“Simba, bloody hell,” Mark called. “Sorry, mate,” he apologised, addressing Seb, “They are a bit of a missile if they know someone.” Mark offered Seb his hand, and Seb thankfully accepted it, pushing himself up the sand. “You okay?” Mark checked.

“Yeah fine,” Seb smiled, brushing off the sand.

“Sorry about that. You are one of Ann’s Airbnb guys, right?” Mark asked.

“Yes. You are Mark, right?” Seb checked.

“Yep. That would be me. Look I’m really sorry about that…” Mark trailed off.

“I’m fine really,” Sebastian assured, slowly walking down the beach alongside Mark, his breathing still uneaven.

“You staying a while?” Mark asked, and Seb wondered, whether he felt he had to talk to him just because he felt a bit guilty for Simba.

“Uhm… A couple of days, maybe longer, I don’t know. It’s nice here.” Seb shrugged, looking at his feet, he almost consciously had to remind himself to shut up.

“It is. You should check out the national park.” Mark advised. “You here alone, right?”

Sebastian gave a tight nod. Usually this kind of questions sounded like an accusation to his ears, but this time for some inexplicable reason it didn’t. Mark didn’t sound disapproving and Seb didn’t quite feel the usual need to be ashamed.

“It’s a great place to clear your head. The best really. Lots of stuff to do, too. Mountain biking routes up the hills are awesome, you should give it a go. There’s a hire on the other side of the town. Jenson has some real beauties there,” Mark advised, talking so quickly that Seb almost struggled to understand him.

Mark threw another stick to the dogs.

“I’ll check it out.” Seb nodded, thinking that he actually might. “Thank you.”

They walked for a bit in silence. Seb watched the sun painting the water all the shades of orange, the waves rolling up the shore, he was desperately trying to find something to say, to steal another minute of this man’s company.

“Fancy a coffee?” Mark offered, nodding in the general direction of a tiny café at the edge of the beach, to Seb’s surprise, open in such an ungodly hour.

“Uhm? I don’t have any money on me,” Seb confessed, thinking that it was actually pretty stupid on his part.

“Not a problem. My treat, I guess I owe you anyway.” Mark smiled.

“No-no, it’s okay, don’t worry,” Seb shook his head, he wanted to smack himself, realising, his previous phrase must have sounded like some sort of a plea.

“I’m not worrying, you are. I don’t know if you are familiar with the local legislation, but I can assure you an invitation for a cup of coffee doesn’t automatically lead to lifelong slavery these days.” Mark winked at Seb.

Seb laughed at the way Mark put it.

“Oh, really? I would have never thought that. Thank you.” Sebastian smiled, wondering how the hell Mark knew what his issue was, what gave him away.

“That’s settled then. There is one piece of information that I fear is a general requirement for such a serious investment as a cup of coffee.” Mark said, keeping his face straight.

“Which is?” Seb asked carefully, not sure whether Mark was still joking.

“What’s your name, mate?” Mark asked, a big smile on his face.

“Oh… It’s Sebastian, but people call me Seb.” Sebastian automatically offered his hand, which Mark shook, and Seb suddenly worried whether his handshake was too firm, whether he allowed himself to hold Mark’s hand for too long.

They made their way to a small café. Mark gave a quick hug to a tall skinny guy, who stepped out from behind the counter to greet him. He was about six feet tall, blond hair messy, big smile splitting his face the second he spotted Mark. Seb stood awkwardly at the side, smiling. It had always made him feel warmer inside witnessing people have such relationships. Seb had always felt happy for them, and a part of him wasn’t giving up hope that one day there would be someone in this world who would be happy to share such hugs with him.

“Could you sort out some coffee for me and Seb, mate?” Mark asked, his hand still resting on the blond’s shoulder.

“Sure. The usual Latte for you, and for Seb?” he asked finally looking at Sebastian.

“The same, please,” Sebastian smiled, making sure to read the small silver name tag hanging off Brendon’s shirt.

“Just give me a sec,” Brendon smiled, and Sebastian followed Mark to a table outside.

The sunrise was gorgeous, the trees were rustling in the wind, the birds singing, accompanied by the rhythmic sound of the waves. The scent of freshly ground coffee leaked from the open doors of the café mixing with the salty smell of the ocean. Sebastian took in a deep breath and rubbed Simba who put his head on his lap between his ears.

“I love it here, best latte in the world, and the Italians can go to hell,” Mark stated stretching his long legs sliding down in his chair.

“Have you been to Italy?” Sebastian dared to ask.

“Yeah, for quite some time, England and Germany, too,” Mark sighed. “You are German, right?”

“Yes. The accent I presume?” Sebastian guessed, a bit embarrassed.

“Yes, your “L”s are quite German,” Mark noted. “Your English is good, though,” he added.

Brendon came through with their drinks and placed the glasses in front of them: coffee looked perfect with that sharp line between milk and espresso, thick foam sticking out of the glass.

“Thank you, Brendon,” Seb smiled looking at the guy.

“Thanks, mate,” Mark nodded. “Join us?” he offered.

“I’d love to but I have to sort out some paperwork,” Brendon sighed. “Enjoy,” he winked.

Sebastian took a sip of his coffee. It was probably the best he ever had, and it only partly had anything to do with Brendon’s remarkable barista-skills. It was something about the place, and the company and the way Simba kept his head on his lap. Sebastian felt welcomed, and it was a rare feeling.

“Thank you for the coffee,” Sebastian said, even though it wasn’t just the coffee Sebastian was thanking for.

“No problem, mate,” Mark smiled. “So…what brings you to Noosa? It’s not like we are the number one tourist destination,” Mark wondered, lazily taking a sip of his coffee.

Sebastian stot up a terrified look at Mark. For a split second he was frightened he actually knew something, that Mark could somehow deduce, that he was running away, that Mark knew he had come here in a ridiculous attempt to flee from himself.

“I just wanted to go somewhere nice,” Sebastian shrugged, wondering whether Mark was annoyed with tourists showing up in the lovely little Aussie town. “The girl at the station suggested it,” he added unnecessarily.

“Are you sure you are German, mate? Where is the carefully prepared plan?” Mark laughed.

Sebastian smiled, bit his lip and puffed out a tiny laugh.

“The plan was not to have a plan for once,” he admitted, in fact a lot more than he actually intended.

“Get away from everything and everyone?” Mark guessed.

Myself – Seb thought sadly, but he didn’t dare to say. “Sort of,” he offered vaguely instead.  
Talking about himself made Sebastian feel uncomfortable, he had always run out of interesting things about himself so quickly that is was embarrassing.

Sebastian sighed, distracted by the dogs, who got bored just sitting at their feet and dashed off across the beach to play in the waves.

“You said you lived in Germany. Where, if I may ask?” Sebastian asked, trying to shift the focus off himself.

For some reason, when Mark mentioned Germany, Seb had caught himself thinking that Mark didn’t seem like someone, who would be happy in Germany, there was something so un-German about him, that Seb wondered, whether he would fit in.

Mark laughed, puffed out a breath as if postponing the decision whether or not to tell Seb anything.

“Germany was long ago, 1998ish or so. Stuttgart wasn’t a happy place, to be honest: fresh from Uni, first real job,” he said, and Sebastian instinctively slid to the edge of his chair, carefully listening, catching every word.

Sebastian loved other people’s stories, loved imagining them in all the situations, greedily stealing any emotion they were willing to share. It was some sort of a relic of that period in his life when he wanted to be a writer, when he wanted to be able to tell other people’s stories, but then the common sense took over and he invested all of his energy into mastering financial analytics.

“Long story anyway, mate,” Mark shrugged and downed his coffee after checking the time, he took a look at Seb’s half full glass and stood up. “Listen, I got to get to work. See you around.”

Seb tried to hide his disappointment. He probably fucked up already, like he always did. They were going to the same direction, but Mark clearly didn’t want his company anymore, so Sebastian thanked him for the coffee again, and watched him leave, the dogs following Mark. Seb gave all three of them a wave none of them saw and took a sip of his now lukewarm drink.

Seb stayed for a while before he made it back to change and take a shower, wondering what he should do. Sebastian got some money, his phone and decided to go hiking. The area was beautiful, and there was no point going to Australia if you were not planning to enjoy the views. Sebastian made his way up the hill, enjoying the peace and quiet of the forest. The sun was milder and Seb was quite happy he chose to take a hoodie with him. He walked for a couple of hours: up and over the hill, then along the beach. He made it to the next tiny village on the coast and decided to have lunch in one of the cafes on the beach.

He entered the small space and took a seat at the counter, unwilling to occupy a table that would be good for two. The place looked Asian, and Seb wondered whether they would have something plain by their standards – he has never been too adventurous with food. The lady behind the counter looked at him and offered him the menu with a welcoming smile. Seb greeted her, and looked through the menu, choosing rice with veg and shrimps in addition to a bottle of water.

The woman brought him his food, and set to polish the glasses.  
“A tourist?” she asked in a heavily accented English.

“Yes, just traveling around. It’s a lovely area,” Seb smiled, quite happy to chat to her.

“It is very good, not many tourists,” she said. “You travel alone?”

Seb took a sip of his water, taking a moment to persuade himself that it was just an observation.

“Yes, lets me be flexible.” Seb shrugged, the conversation suddenly becoming a burden. “You have a lovely place, do you own it?” he attempted to switch the topic.

“Yes, me and my husband own it, it’s good place. When my husband was your age we had three children and worked, we didn’t have time to travel around,” the woman told Seb.

“It’s admirable,” was the only thing Seb could think of.

“You are not good,” the woman said. “Not a good person. Not real person. Not grown up person.” She added, suddenly looking Seb in the eyes, still holding a glass in her hand.

Seb bit his lip looking at the hostess, trying to understand whether he was getting it right, wondering why she was doing this, telling him this, what it was he did wrong. His brain refused to accept that someone could just say things like this out of the blue.

“You come here all smiling, but you are not a good person. You think your English is good. As a matter of fact it is miserable,” she added, sounding very sure, very proud of what she was saying.

Seb couldn’t understand why. What was it he said or did that made this woman, who saw him for the first time, say all this things, what was she trying to achieve. Seb puffed out a slow shaky breath, leaving his cutlery on the side of the plate. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

“I should go,” he said quietly and got his wallet out of his pocket. He left a couple of notes on the counter, seeing how badly his hands were shaking, picked up his small backpack from the floor, and left.

Sebastian felt cold clench on him, his brain trying to compute what it was he did so spectacularly wrong for this woman to say this all. Seb walked along the beach, the sand runny under his feet, and every step felt like a struggle, as if something was holding him, preventing him from running away from the hurtful comments. Seb found a space on the side of the beach where it was melting into the forest, and sat on the sand taking slow breathes.

Sebastian’s body was shaking and he desperately tried to stop the tears running. He couldn't. This woman telling him what a rubbish person he was, this woman who seemed to look into him, to see all his insecurities, all the flaws in him just needed a couple of minutes to understand it.

She was right, he was immature, childish, and even this seemed fake to her. Seb tried to persuade himself that being open and chatty and friendly - this was the real him. It wasn’t. It wasn’t him, it was a mask he so desperately clenched on, hiding what a mess he was. And this woman, who didn’t even know him, could see past his mask, she saw what a rotten human being he was.

Seb had hoped that maybe he was just unlucky, that everything that went wrong in his life was not only his fault. How naïve, how stupid of him – of course it wasn’t. It was him, and him alone. He fucked everything up, not the circumstances. What this woman said hurt so badly, because it squashed that hope dead. He was a flawed human being. He didn't deserve to be happy, he was fake and immature, he was a mess, he deserved to be ignored, he was someone people should stay away from. The world would be better without him.

Seb thought about all the moments he behaved in a way that he did just now, wondering if every time he was like, that people saw what this woman saw. They hated him and were just polite enough not to tell him. Maybe she did him a favour. Maybe he needed to know what he was, maybe he had to stop trying to annoy people with his presence, with his unfounded demand for kindness. He didn't deserve kindness.

For some reason what hurt the most was that comment about his English. It was so irrelevant in that moment and she still wanted to say that, to let him know that there was another thing in his life he failed at.

Sebastian tried to remember all the nice things people said to him, how he was flattered and grateful for every single nicety. But it all was a lie. Just decent people taking pity on him. On the total basket case.

Seb puffed out a slow breath. He wasn't crying anymore, just shaking. He had to pull himself together, he just should learn and for fucks sake stop annoying people, to stay away from them. He should stop thinking he was worth anything. He wasn't.

Seb closed his eyes and thought how nice it would be to never open them again. Disappear, melt into the white sand, never to exist. He was a disappointment, a mess. And this lady just needed ten minutes to get it.

For some reason Seb thought about Mark, about their conversation about their run about his dogs. There for that hour he was happy, greedily feeding off Mark’s easy confidence. Such an idiot. Immature faggot with shitty English. This was what he was, nothing more. No wonder Mark didn’t stay long.

This is what he was, nothing more. Seb didn't know how long he kept sitting staring at the horizon with a blank stare. The worst part was it wasn't news, the worst part was that the woman said what Sebastian himself always knew, but didn't allow this knowledge to surface. She actually did him a favour by spelling out what he already knew, by making sure, he was aware that the others saw it too - how flawed, how fucked up he was.

Seb pushed himself up from the ground, brushed the sand off his shorts. He just wanted to hide, to disappear. He made his way back up the hill, he could go to his rental flat and sleep, before it was time to leave in the morning. Sleeping gave him a break from feeling miserable and he needed it now. Seb felt his eyes fill up with tears again. It was pathetic, he was pathetic.

When Seb walked through the gate Simba and Shadow rushed to meet him, rubbing themselves at his legs and Seb couldn't help but kneel in front of them and give them a rub, he buried his face in Shadow's fur. The dogs didn’t know, did they? Poor little things trusted him, licked his hands, fought for his useless attention.

"You don't hate me, do you? Don't hate me, please," he whispered, taking in every ounce of affection the animals were willing to share.

He let go of the dogs and headed to the stairs to the studio apartment noticing Mark who sat at the table on the terrasse with Brendon and other men Seb didn't know. Sebastian hurriedly schooled his face into a smile and gave them a wave.

"Hey mate, come over, join us!" Mark offered lifting a bottle of beer.

Seb smiled wider, flattered by the offer but then swiftly remembered what he was told: he wasn’t a good human being. He didn't belong there, he didn't belong with these people. He wanted to say “yes” so badly, but he wasn't going to. He didn't deserve their kindness.

“Thank you very much, I think I’ll just have an early night,” Seb smiled, digging his nails into the palm of his hand.

“Come over, if you change your mind,” Mark offered, shrugging and absent-mindedly running his free hand over Shadow’s fur.

Seb smiled and thanked him again, the words tasted bitter in his mouth. Sebastian climbed up the stairs and decided to start packing. Theoretically he could stay two more nights, but he didn’t feel like it. He liked Mark and Ann and Brendon, and maybe the best he could do was to get the hell out of their sight. Seb took a shower, washed some of his clothes in the sink and sat on the bed packing his stuff. The window was open and he could hear the men laugh and joke, he could hear them talk about mountain biking and surfing, and parties and road trips they did together, and abut a Porsche in Mark’s workshop.

Seb knew eavesdropping was bad, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know more, it was a masochistic pleasure to listen to them talk about each other in a way Seb knew no one ever would about him. Seb finished packing and sat on the bed, looking out of the window through the small gap in the curtains. They were laughing, Brendon shook his messy blond hair, another man – Neel – was beaming at him, Timo, who sounded German to Seb’s ears shook his head and took another sip of Foster’s. Mark was smiling, small wrinkles in the corners of his eyes made his face looked even more handsome, he rubbed his stubbly jaw and straightened his hair.

Sebastian sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. It was enough, it should be enough. He could watch other people be happy and be happy for them.

Sebastian set the alarm and crawled under the thin sheet, laughter and conversations outside lulling him into sleep.

***

Waking up was a disappointment, the events of the previous day crawled back out of the far corner of his mind. Seb hugged the pillow, as if it could protect him from the mess he felt inside. He hoped to forget it, he hoped the pain would lessen once he had some sleep. It didn’t, and deep inside Seb knew, it never would. Seb knew the hurtful words would stay with him forever, this woman would sit in the back of his mind forever, reminding him what he was.

Seb collected his dried clothes, dressed and cleaned up the tiny studio apartment. The day before, sometime along his walk back to Noosa through the forest he had decided to go home, to take a train to Brisbane and get the next ticket to Frankfurt. He had to get back to work, he had to get back to his normal life of waking up, going to work, going back home and falling asleep, into the boring frictionless routine, into the environment he could learn to navigate unnoticed.

Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the tiny flat filled with beautiful textiles and metal sculptures. It was a privilege to stay here, to be allowed to meet such amazing people as Ann and Mark. Sebastian sighed and closed the door behind himself.

“You leaving? Annie said you were staying till Sunday,” Mark called from across the garden, where he was playing with the dogs.

“Morning,” Seb greeted. “A bit of a change of plans,” Seb made sure to smile. “It’s still okay with the rent, no problem.”

“Are you sure?” Mark checked. “You can have it back, if you want to,” he assured.

Sebastian shook his head.

“No, it’s okay. Very kind of you though. I wanted to thank you, I had an awesome time,” Seb said. ‘Especially with you’ he didn’t add.

“Good to know mate, good to know.” Mark chuckled. “Where are you heading now?”

“Home,” Seb shrugged.

Mark looked at him sceptically. “Something happened?” he worried.

“No,” Seb shook his head. “I guess I should just head back.”

“Do you want a lift to Brisbane?” Mark offered. “I am going there in half an hour or so.”

It was tempting, and more than anything Seb wanted to say “yes”, to spend a couple of hours in a car with Mark, to listen to him telling him about his workshop and his travels, and his amazing friends. He couldn’t though, he couldn’t possibly ask for favours.

“Thank you very much, but it’s okay. I have already got the ticket,” Seb lied.

Mark looked at him sceptically but didn’t say anything, and Seb was grateful that he didn’t insist, otherwise it would be tough to repeat his less than solid ‘no’.

Sebastian handed Mark the keys.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay, you have an incredible place,” Seb praised.

“You are welcome, mate,” Mark laughed and gave Seb a nice bear hug, wrapping his arms around Seb’s shoulders. Sebastian breathed in Mark’s scent, allowing himself to stay pressed to him for a second longer than was strictly necessary.

Seb took a step back and smiled. “Thank you,” he said, before picking up his backpack from the ground. Seb gave Mark’s dogs a rub and smiled. “To Ann, too,” Seb added.

“No problem, mate,” Mark assured, and grabbed the collars of the dogs to prevent them from following Seb.

Sebastian walked to the station. It was easy downhill. Easy emptiness inside his heart was balanced by the headache, it felt good though, it distracted him from feeling miserable for the other reasons.

***

Sebastian took his place on the plane, looking out of the window, the ground was speeding up beneath the wing, and Seb took a deep breath when the plane took off, everything becoming smaller as it got further away. The familiar feeling inside as usual left him wishing something would go wrong. It was of course cruel and very selfish, but Seb couldn’t help but wish something would happen.

The flight attendants were talking and talking, and Seb’s headache only got worse and worse, but it felt divine: the void inside was hurting a lot more. It wasn’t going to be a nice journey anyway: there were no good flights available, so he had to make a change twice, first in Kuala Lumpur and then in Beijing. About 40 hours later Seb would be home in his flat in Sachsenhausen, back in his life, back being the same person he was before.

Seb made a change at the airport in Kualu Lumpur and dug opened Gaiman’s “Graveyard Book” on his phone. One of the lines somewhere in the middle said “Wherever you go, you take yourself with you,” and Seb knew that only too well.

Fin.


End file.
